


The Cabin

by LuxLouise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breakups, F/M, Fluff, Only One Bed, cabin in the woods, death of a minor character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxLouise/pseuds/LuxLouise
Summary: When Daphnes friends trick her into a weekend away, she has to deal with someone from her past she thought she had put behind her. Emotions are laid bare, can two people reclaim what they lost?
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Cormac McLaggen
Comments: 43
Kudos: 30
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	The Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare: UK Invasion. Much love to my Beta and Alpha who shall remain nameless for the moment.
> 
> Song Prompt: Thinking Out Loud- Ed Sheeran
> 
> Assignment: There was only one bed!
> 
> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this creation.

_ Daph, _

_ You work too much so the girls and I have decided you need a break this weekend. We’re going on a girls trip! Millie has procured her family villa in Spain, you just need to be at my house Friday afternoon, bags packed. _

_ No arguments. Don’t be difficult about this. _

_ Love, _

_ Pansy _

A scoff slipped out of Daphne Greengrass’ lips. Pansy had been bossing her, and everyone else they knew, their entire lives. Marrying ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and the current star Seeker for the English National Quidditch team had done nothing but give her a wider circle of people to strong-arm into doing her bidding. She looked around at the stacks of orders on her desk in the back of her shop, Spellbound, where Daphne sold a bit of everything, stationery, books, bespoke clothing, herbs, and crystals. The business had been booming since she opened the shop six months before, and she  _ had _ perhaps been neglecting her personal life a bit. Not that she had much of one to speak about anyway.

When the war ended, the entire country had seemed to take a collective sigh of relief. Daphne was no exception. Her father was arrested and sentenced to a life term in Azkaban, her mother and sister both fleeing the country. Daphne was left to the mercy of her friends. After finishing her make up final year at Hogwarts, she had gotten a job working the register at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, George Weasley taking pity on her. Taking a job at one of the heroes of the Wizarding world’s shops had been unexpected, but had opened a door to an entirely new realm of friendship that Daphne hadn’t known she needed. The first time George dragged her to the Burrow for a Sunday Roast had been terrifying. She had expected curses thrown at the most, doors slammed in her face at the least. When Molly Weasley had pulled her into a bone-crushing hug in the cramped kitchen, Daphne had been sure that she was dreaming. The entire Weasley family had been nothing but kind since the moment she met them, and she would forever be grateful to them for it. 

Daphne had worked at WWW for three years before she had saved up enough money to buy the little shop next to the Apothecary that had been vacant since the war. Opening Spellbound had been like adding a small piece of her soul that she hadn’t known was missing. All of her friends had helped in one way or another. George, Percy, and Bill had spent several weekends helping to fix anything that had been broken over the years; Pansy, Millie, and Hermione had helped to decorate and stock shelves, and the Golden Boy and his sidekick, Ron, had done all the heavy lifting. Becoming friends with the Golden Trio had been a surprise. The day Daphne had made Pansy attend a dinner at the Burrow, the dark-haired witch had taken one look at Harry Potter, Daphne knew she would soon be a part of their circle, whether she wanted to or not.

Harry Potter being seen with Pansy Parkinson on his arm two years after the war ended had rocked the Wizarding World. Speculation ran wild. Ginny Weasley was hounded for information on her supposed broken heart when everyone who knew Ginny knew she was more likely to find  _ Pansy _ attractive than she was Potter. When the two announced they were marrying just five months after they began dating, well, the implications weren’t pretty. However, when no bump appeared and no baby arrived nine months later, suddenly, they were the Golden Couple. Daphne was truly happy for her best friend and for the family she had gained in the process. 

Sighing, Daphne pushed away from her desk and wandered out of her office in search of Hannah Abbott, the manager of her shop. Hannah was restocking some candles when Daphne approached, an amused look on her face, a direct opposite of the scowl on Daphne’s.

“Got Pansy’s owl I assume? She asked me a few days ago if I would mind taking over the shop for a few days. Said you needed some personal days, and I must say Daph, I agree with her.” She held up the hand not holding a candle when Daphne opened her mouth to protest.

“You’re killing yourself here. The shop is doing  _ great _ and you deserve time to yourself. Go, you haven’t taken time off in forever. The shop will be fine and you know it.” Hannah turned back to the candles, effectively ending any sort of argument Daphne may have come up with. 

* * *

Friday morning dawned rainy and cold, matching Daphne’s mood. Flooing over to Pansy’s house as late as she dared, lest she feel her friends’ wrath, she brushed the soot from her cloak and was immediately assaulted by the witch in question.

“What in Merlin’s name took you so long? The Portkey is leaving in two minutes.” Pansy barked out as she shuffled Daphne into the sitting room. Hermione, Millie, and Ginny were all crowded around a small satchel that she assumed was the Portkey in question. Hermione smiled at her nervously. The woman couldn’t hide her emotions at all, she would have been eaten alive in Slytherin.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” she questioned, not missing the dirty look Pansy threw at the Gryffindor. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Hermione squeaked out, before clearing her throat. “I was just worried you weren’t going to make the Portkey.”

Daphne eyed her suspiciously before the satchel began glowing. Pansy handed it to her, a smirk on her face.

“You’ll thank us later,” Pansy said just as Daphne felt the hook behind her bellybutton.

She couldn’t even formulate words before she began flying through space, only to be dumped unceremoniously on her arse in the middle of what was most definitely  _ not _ Millie's Spanish villa. 

“I see you were tricked as well,” a deep voice called out from behind her. A voice Daphne would know anywhere, that still, a year later, sent a shiver down her spine. Turning slowly, still sitting on the floor, she looked up into green eyes.

“Cormac.”

The memories she had worked so hard to forget flooded Daphne's mind. 

_ An extremely tall, broad-shouldered man, leaning against the booth all her friends were gathered around, his laugh booming in the smoky pub. _

_ Cormac coming to Sunday Roast at the Burrow, throwing her a wink, before taking to the sky to join in on the Quidditch matches after dinner was over. _

_ Coming to the shop with a bouquet of daisies to ask her on a proper date. _

_ Spending weekends wrapped around one another, only leaving the bed to get more food. _

_ Double dates with Hermione and Theo, weekends away with Potter and Pansy. _

_ “I love you, Daphne,” he had told her, his finger trailing down her spine. “I don’t know when it started, maybe it was just the touch of a hand, but I fall in love with you every single day.” _

_ Then the memories turned dark. _

_ A picture of Cormac in Witch Weekly with another woman, his hand on the small of her back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. _

_ Screaming, crying, pushing him out the door of her flat, refusing to so much as listen to his empty excuses. _

_ Doors slamming, words spewing from her mouth like curses, saying words she wouldn’t be able to take back, pulling away from everyone. _

  
  


“Daphne, are you alright?” His voice cutting through the beating in her ears. Her breathing coming in deep gasps.

“What are you doing here? Where the hell am I?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Some cabin, I’m not exactly sure where. I’ve been here about fifteen minutes, and I can’t Apparate out; the door opens but I can only go about 4 yards off the porch before I bounce off some sort of ward. My magic isn’t working either.”

Panic had begun setting in. The fear of being stuck with the man who she had given her entire heart to, just to have it crushed, was pushed aside for the moment.

“Is there anything in the bag you brought?” Cormac asked her, gesturing to the satchel that had been her Portkey. He held his hand out to help her up. As she pushed it away from her, a sigh escaped from his lips.

Daphne pulled at the drawstring and stuck her hand in, knowing immediately Hermione had played a role in what was a  _ kidnapping _ . She stuck her arm in up to her elbow, feeling clothing, wrapped food, and finally parchment. Pulling it out, she began reading, Cormac at her shoulder, close enough to touch, close enough she could feel her magic stirring inside of her. 

_ Cormac and Daphne, _

_ We know you’re angry, but this was for your own good. You’ve both been miserable since last November and we’re all sick of it! Take this time and talk to one another. Things aren’t what they seem, Daphne. You’re a stubborn witch. We will be there to get you on Sunday afternoon. You can’t leave, and you can’t use magic. There’s enough food in the bag for the weekend, don’t worry. _

_ Pansy, Millie, Hermione, Theo, Ginny, Harry, and Ron _

_ P.S. _

_ I had no part in this and thought it was a bad idea _

_ Theo _

_ P.P.S. _

_ He’s a liar, he found the cabin. _

_ Ron _

Daphne threw the letter onto a nearby table and stalked out the front door, wand in hand. She started throwing  _ Bombarda _ s at what was the edge of their prison they were stuck in for the entire weekend. She didn’t know how long she stood there, throwing as many hexes and curses as she could think of, but nothing happened. Not even a spark of magic came from the end of her wand. A sob escaped before she pressed the back of her hand over her mouth and turned to find Cormac leaning against the railing of the porch. She walked to the cabin, ignoring his attempts to speak. Cormac put a hand on her elbow when she got close enough. 

Yanking her arm away, she looked at him with hatred in her eyes. “Stay the fuck away from me. I hate you and I never wanted to see you again.” 

She couldn’t miss the hurt in his eyes, the way the light seemed to leave them a bit as he held his hands up in surrender.

“Daphne, please, just let me talk to you.” 

“I didn’t want to hear it then, and I don’t want to hear it now. Whatever our mutual friends thought they were going to achieve by basically holding us hostage for a weekend won’t happen. I want nothing to do with you and that will never change.” She stalked into the cabin, slamming the door behind her, not looking back.

Locking the door behind her to the loo, she slid down the wooden door, letting the sobs wrack through her body, not caring if he heard her. 

* * *

She couldn’t be sure how long she had sat in the loo, but long enough for her cries to subside, the salty tear tracks on her face were dry, and her feet tingled from being crossed. Standing, Daphne put her hands on the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Her mascara was streaked down her face, cheeks flushed red, eyes puffy, hair an absolute nightmare. 

“Pull yourself together, Daphne,” she muttered to herself. Pulling her wand out of habit, she waved it over her face only to remember she had no magic. “Fucking Pansy.”

Looking under the sink, she found a flannel and ran it under the tap before scrubbing her face, erasing what was at least an hour's worth of crying, before taking a deep breath, opening the door, and walking back into the sitting room of the tiny cabin. She found Cormac sitting at the table, his head in his hands, blonde curls sticking up haphazardly. Daphne hated that she still found him attractive. She wanted to hate him, to be sick at the sight of him but she wasn’t. A small part of her that she had locked away yearned to reach her hand out, run it down his back, pull his hands from his face. But she stopped herself, and pushed those unwanted feelings back into the box she kept tucked deep in her soul. Her magic  _ ached _ at being so close to him, it wasn’t something she had felt since the last time they had been together. 

A floorboard creaked under her foot and his head jerked up. He looked awful, his face was full of anguish, eyes just as swollen as hers. He cleared his throat and started to push back from the table to stand.

“No, please sit,” she told him, pulling a chair out on the opposite side of the table. “Who set you up?” she asked quietly, staring down at the scrubbed wood, pulling on the fingers she had sitting on her lap. 

“Weasley. He told me a bunch of the lads were getting together this weekend for some Quidditch practice since it’s offseason, players from other teams. I should have known better. He doesn’t invite me unless he has to these days.” Daphne glanced up to find him looking at her. “Not that I blame him, none of them talk to me anymore unless they have too.”

She knew that when they broke up, all of the Weasleys had rallied around her, no questions asked. Ron was the reserve Keeper for the Falmouth Falcons, Cormac the starter, and Ron had refused to have anything to do with the man unless he had to during practices and games. The redhead had stated that Daphne was like a sister to him, and he had no time for poncy cheating prats who broke his sister’s heart. 

“I never asked them to choose sides,” Daphne told him. 

“I know you didn’t, you’re too nice for that.”

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to bring up the Hippogriff in the room. 

“So, I looked around, and uh, there’s only one bedroom.”

Daphne’s head jerked up, her mouth dropping open in a very unladylike fashion. She was going to murder those meddling hags as soon as they showed up on Sunday.

“Of course there is. I’ll sleep on the sofa. We just need to get through the next couple of days, and then you can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.” She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “It’ll be like this never happened.” 

Daphne turned to go into the small kitchen area. 

“What if I don’t want to pretend this never happened?”

She spun on her heel, Cormac had stood up and was standing dangerously close to her with a look on his face she couldn’t quite place.

“You lost any sort of say in my life when you cheated on me the week my sister died.”

* * *

She sat on the porch, refusing to acknowledge how chilly she was, not wanting to go back inside and deal with Cormac. Astoria’s death had rocked Daphne to her core. A freak potions accident in her lab at St Mungos and her little sister, the one she had told stories about dragons and princesses to as children, was gone. Her friends had been there for her day and night, Cormac had only left her side to go to practice once. Then, the day after she laid Astoria to rest, he had gone to a Quidditch function he supposedly hadn’t been able to get out of. He had come home late that night, reeking of alcohol. Witch Weekly had been delivered like it always had been on Sunday mornings, full of pictures of the party, and with a full-page picture of her boyfriend; the boyfriend who she had thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with, with another woman. 

Now that time had passed, Daphne could admit that she had possibly overreacted. She should have allowed Cormac to explain, but then, weeks later when she was continually assaulted with photos in various publications of Cormac with witches draped around him, smiling up at him, holding hands, Daphne decided she had been right. From that moment on, no one spoke about Cormac, not even in passing. So much time had passed she thought she was past it. Had she moved on? Not even slightly. Daphne hadn’t dated, had sex, or even so much as  _ looked _ at another wizard since the breakup. The front door creaked open, pulling her away from the dark thoughts. She looked up to find Cormac standing framed in the doorway, a blanket was thrown over one arm.

“I understand you want to be alone, and that I’m the last person you want to see or even talk to, but if I let you catch your death out here Ron will follow through on the threats.” 

She watched as he started to turn to go back inside.

“What threats?” Daphne called out.

His shoulders tensed slightly before he began to speak, not turning around.

“After the...break up, the working relationship, what I thought was a pretty good  _ friendship _ with Ron turned sour pretty quick. That Monday he cornered me in the office, threw a punch and told me that if I ever went near you again, he’d make me wish for death.” 

Daphne could hear the pain in his voice. She had known that Cormac and Ron had gotten close working together, that they would often play on the same Quidditch rec league, go out to the pubs together, and were always together at the Weasley dinners. Knowing that he had lost what he considered one of his best friends made her heartache for him. 

“I’ve avoided him since then unless it was necessary for work. Him inviting me to a Quidditch game this weekend should have tipped me off.” Daphne watched as Cormac walked back inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Caring how Cormac Mclaggen felt should be the last thing on her mind. He had destroyed their relationship, but perhaps she had just as much of a hand in ruining it as he had. Grabbing the blanket he had laid on the arm of the chair and wrapping it around herself, Daphne looked out into the surrounding woods. Trees as far as the eye could see, birds chirping, she could even hear something scuttling around in the undergrowth. There was so much silence, but Daphne was used to that. Losing her sister and the love of her life within the space of a week had led her to withdraw into herself, throwing herself into her work, and ignoring all of her friends. Coming home late at night after closing the shop, pouring a glass or three of wine and just sitting in her quiet apartment, the sounds of muggle London the only noise surrounding her. She only saw her friends when they came by the shop, she answered owls when they came and she allowed Molly Weasley to bring food by once a week, so she didn’t starve.

She hadn’t meant to quit living her life, but it seemed so much easier than dealing with her pain. Now, here she was, a year later with the one person she had loved more than anyone, shoved in her face. Daphne knew what her friends were doing, they were trying to help her heal, get some closure at the very least, and while she had as much closure as she would ever get on Astoria, she needed answers from Cormac.

* * *

Half an hour later, Daphne walked back into the cabin to find Cormac in the tiny kitchen sliding a casserole dish into the oven. He turned when she shut the door, a smile crossing his face before falling immediately, and instead of looking down at the floor.

“I’m, uh, heating some food. Looks like Mrs Weasley was part of the ambush, it’s her Shepherds Pie. Shouldn’t be too long.” He brushed past her, tensing up when his arm touched hers. Daphne felt her magic begin to swirl in her core at the contact.

“Can we talk?” she asked him. “If nothing else, I want to leave this weekend with closure. I should have heard you out when it happened, but I want to know everything now.”

Cormac looked her over for a moment before sitting on the sofa with a sigh. “The night of the party, I got drunk. Very drunk actually. The woman in the photo was a reporter for Witch Weekly. She kept trying to corner me, giving me more drinks, cosying up to me, throwing herself at me. Even though I was drunk, I wasn’t giving her the time of day.” he blew out a breath and leaned back. 

“I didn’t even notice she had a photographer following me around until the picture came out the next morning. I had just turned to tell her to sod off and leave me alone, when she pretended to trip and threw herself on me. I grabbed her to push her off me, and that’s what the photographer caught.”

Blood was rushing in Daphne’s ears. An entire year was lost because she was so stupid. An entire year without him because she was too prideful to let him explain himself. Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her magic was angry, swelling up and roiling inside her. A strong hand was rubbing soothing circles on her back, a quiet shushing noise was breaking through the pounding in her ears as the panic attack eased.

Sobs wracked Daphne's body as the consequences of her actions crashed down on her. A misunderstanding. That’s all it was, something that could have been cleared up with a two-minute conversation the same day. She was embarrassed, distraught, and angry with herself, so many emotions were coursing through her it was hard to keep up. Then a thought crossed her mind.

“Oh Merlin, Cormac I...I’m so sorry. I caused this. I ruined  _ everything _ because I’m such a daft bint. I thought you broke my heart but really...I broke yours, didn’t I?”

She looked up into those green eyes, eyes that she had looked at so many times; she could vividly see the corners of them crinkled when he laughed, the way they darkened when they would come together, the way they would light up when he played Quidditch. Now, he was looking at her the way he had looked at her so many times, still filled with love, love that she didn’t deserve. Pulling away from him, she stood and walked out the door, taking deep gulps of the fresh air. How could she have done this? Had she been so wrapped up in herself, her suffering that she ruined her own life?

The door opened behind her and Cormac came up to stand next to her, looking out into the woods surrounding them. 

“Dinner’s ready.”

When she didn’t respond, he turned to look at her. “Daphne, look at me.”

She turned and looked up into his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing is going to get solved in one night or even one weekend. I made mistakes and so did you. I can see you spiralling and taking all the blame, but it’s not all on you. I could have made you listen to me, I could have kept trying, but I didn’t. Let’s just go inside, eat some of Molly’s cooking, and tomorrow we can start fresh.” He reached out, cupping her chin with his hand, his thumb caressing her cheek, making her breath hitch.

“Come on.”

Daphne followed him back inside and watched as he pulled dinner out of the oven before handing her a plate. They ate in silence except for the sound of their forks on the plates. She insisted on cleaning up when they were done, and Cormac went into the sitting room, looking through cabinets and drawers. She was wiping her hands on a dishtowel when she heard him call out to her.

“I found a radio.” He exclaimed, his face lit up as he began to fiddle with the dials, looking for a station that would come through in a clear way, out in the middle of nowhere. Finally landing on a station that was playing a slow muggle song, he stood from the sofa and turned to her, holding his hand out.

“Dance with me? Even if this weekend doesn’t end the way I hope it does, can I just have this one moment with you?” 

Her magic was reaching out to him, urging her forward without any concise thought until she placed her hand in his. The rough calluses against her soft hands sent a shiver through her, the feel of his large hand on the small of her back, low enough to be considered impolite, as he pulled her body flush with his. They swayed to the music, neither saying anything, both lost in their thoughts. Daphne looked up to find Cormac staring at her, a look she had seen a million times and never fully appreciated until that moment.

“Do you think you remember?”

“Remember what?”

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over hers. “Does your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Maybe just the touch of my hand? Because I do, I remember everything about you, Daphne. The feel of you coming undone underneath me, the way you look after a long day, your hair frizzy from running your hands through it.” 

Cormac let go of her hand to move a lock of blonde hair that had fallen in her face. “You like western omelettes but only on Sundays. You always read the last two paragraphs of every book you start so you know how it ends.” He grabbed her hand again and twirled her around before pulling her back close, leaning down again to whisper in her ear.

“Your smile is forever in my mind and memory.”

Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps the closer he had gotten, with every word he spoke. It was all too much, she needed to get away, to rationalize everything. Even though every fibre of her being, her very  _ magic _ was telling her not too, Daphne pulled away and ran out of the room, straight to the bedroom. Leaning against the door, she tried to steady her breathing, wishing like hell she could call someone, anyone who could help her reconcile what was happening. 

She looked around and noticed that at some point, Cormac had brought their bags into the bedroom, her suitcase sitting on the right side of the bed,  _ her _ side. A new wave of panic crashed over her when she remembered that there was only one bed. The sofa didn’t look even slightly comfortable. She couldn’t ask him to sleep on it, and she wasn’t going to be sleeping on it either. Pulling off her leggings and an oversized sweater, she opened the suitcase until she found her sleep shorts and a t-shirt, one she wore to bed almost every night, the one memory from her and Cormacs relationship she had allowed herself to keep, his Falmouth Falcons shirt. 

A blush spread over her face. He was going to  _ see _ that, and she didn’t know how to handle that. Cracking the door open, she peeked out into the room and as didn’t see him anywhere she crept out of the bedroom into the loo. After finishing her nightly routine, she opened the door and found Cormac spreading out a blanket on the couch. With a sigh, Daphne stepped into the room, a determined look on her face.

“You can sleep in the bed.” It came out a lot louder than she intended, her nerves obviously at play. He turned to look at her, a confused look on his face.

“No, I don’t mind. Besides, I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.”

She scoffed and stepped forward, smiling inwardly when Cormacs eyes widened as he looked her up and down and saw what shirt she was wearing. There was no way he didn’t know it was his, he’d had it since he was at Hogwarts.

“I have no plans to sleep out here. I think we’re both mature enough that we can spend the night in bed together.” She turned and walked back into the bedroom, pulling the blankets down and getting into bed. She watched as Cormac came into the room and began rummaging around in his rucksack, pulling out a pair of sleep pants before walking back out to use the loo. 

Daphne's eyes widened when he walked back into the bedroom, pants slung low on his hips. He had forgone a shirt and she couldn’t help but notice he must have changed up his workout routine. He looked good, damn good. When he got into bed after turning the light out, they both laid there in the dark, neither speaking. The absurdity of the entire day became too much, and Daphne couldn’t hold back the giggle that slipped out. Her hand clamped over her mouth immediately but the damage was done, the giggles wouldn’t stop and soon Cormac was laughing too. He rolled over onto his side and looked at her. She turned her head to face him.

“What are you looking at?”

“You. There’s a lot I’ve missed about you, but this was the biggest.”

“What? Laughing like an idiot about nothing?”

He gripped her chin gently, his thumb running across her bottom lip. “Laying in bed after a long day and just  _ being _ with you.”

With that he smiled and then turned his back to her.

* * *

The next morning Daphne woke up and rolled over to an empty bed that was already cold. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she padded out into the sitting room to find it empty as well. There was a full pot of coffee on the counter so after pouring herself a cup into the empty mug that was sitting on the counter next to it, she ventured out onto the front porch. She found Cormac sitting in one of the chairs, a mug of coffee between both hands as he stared out into nothing. 

“Good morning.” She called out quietly, sitting her cup on the arm of the chair next to his, grabbing the blanket he had brought out here for her and wrapping herself in it before sitting down. “How long have you been out here?”

He didn’t reply right away, he kept his eyes trained on something she couldn’t see before he took a drink of his coffee. 

“Before the sun came up, I’m not sure what time. I’ve been thinking.”

She didn’t say anything, she knew how Cormac’s mind worked and just waited for him to continue. 

“I loved you so much, Daphne. When you kicked me out, and didn’t let me explain, it hurt. I know you were dealing with a lot but I assumed after a week or two, you’d talk to me, let me tell you what really happened, but you just kept returning my owls unopened. You refused to see me, to talk to me at all. It broke my heart. My entire body ached in ways I never thought possible, and it still does. I hadn’t realised how magically compatible we were until I didn’t have you anymore. My magic ached, didn’t yours?”

“Yes,” she told him quietly.

He stood so quickly and threw the coffee cup off the porch in a show of temper Daphne had rarely seen, and never once directed at her.

“Dammit Daphne, I felt like I was dying. I loved you so fucking much and you threw it in my face. You’re such a stubborn witch.” he was pacing back and forth on the porch. “Fucking wards, I can’t even walk away.” He mumbled.

“Cormac, I- I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry now, I wanted you to be sorry then! You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. Didn’t you trust me? You know me, you know I would have  _ never _ cheated on you. I had a damn ring picked out, it was hidden in the pocket of one of my robes in the back of the closet, I was going to propose in a few weeks and then suddenly, you were gone. I was sleeping on Theo’s sofa for weeks waiting on you to let me explain before I finally gave up.”

She watched as he continued to pace up and down, muttering to himself under his breath now and then. Daphne had never seen him this angry before. Tears stung at her eyes knowing that even if he did begin to yell at her, she deserved it. She had done all those things, she was much more to blame than he was.

“And you know what is absolute bullshite? I feel like I should apologise to you.”

“What for? You have nothing to be sorry for, Cormac. You’re everything. I ruined everything with my stupidity.”

He stopped his pacing long enough to scowl at her.

“Don’t be daft. I know you saw photos of me with other witches. I wasn’t hiding it. I wanted to hurt you, as stupid as that sounds, especially when I knew you didn’t deserve it. You were hurting too. They didn’t mean anything and I didn’t turn into some...some...manwhore like you’re probably thinking.”

The laugh that came out of Daphne was loud and echoed in the emptiness surrounding them. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” 

Cormac cracked a small grin. “I just want you to know that I was hurt, Daphne. But despite that, I still love you, I’ve always loved you and I’ll  _ be _ loving you until we’re seventy.”

She was vaguely aware of the blanket falling around her feet and the mug smashing to the ground as she rose to her feet and threw her arms around his neck, her lips crashing against his. Cormac’s arms wrapped around her and he lifted her off her feet, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as she melted into him. Trying to pour everything she was feeling, thinking, and wanted to say into that kiss. 

Time had no meaning when she was kissing him, and when they both came up for air, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Maybe Pansy had the right idea.” He told her quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we found love right where we are.”

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur, and though they only left the bed for food and the loo, they didn’t have sex. They had agreed that rushing into  _ that _ aspect of their relationship was a bad idea. Rebuilding the trust between one another, learning who the other was now, a year later, was more important. The intimacy they shared, baring their souls, telling each other hard truths that the other might not want to hear was important. There was a long road to get back to where they had been, but it was a good start. 

Sunday dawned and as they packed up, which took longer than necessary between snogging sessions, they sat on the porch, waiting for whoever was coming to release them from the cabin. It was nearing two in the afternoon when they heard a faint  _ pop _ in the distance followed by several more. Pansy, Hermione, Ron, and Theo came traipsing up to the cabin, Hermione being the only one who looked nervous at the sight of the couple, who were sitting on opposite ends of the porch from one another.

“Well, how was your weekend?” Pansy asked, without a hint of shame in her voice.

Daphne stood, grabbed her bag and stomped off the porch. “I can’t believe you lied to us! We’re supposed to be your friends. I don’t want to see or speak to any of you for at least a week.” She turned on the spot once she was clear of the porch and disappeared.

Arriving in her flat, she only waited a few minutes before Cormac appeared in her sitting room.

“Well? What did they say? Did they buy it?”

He grinned at her before swooping her up and carrying her bridal style into her bedroom. “Just like you knew they would, they all think it backfired.”

“Serves the nosy tossers right.”

* * *

“I can’t believe it didn’t work and now Daph is angry. This is all your fault, Pansy, and I’ll be making sure she knows that it was  _ your  _ idea.” Hermione said before downing a shot of firewhisky.

Pansy scoffed. “I did work. If he isn’t in her flat right now, I’ll let Potter name the baby.”


End file.
